


The Baths of Kingsmeet

by fichuntie



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Fingering, Egg Laying, Eggs, M/M, Mosaics, Other, Oviposition, Pool Sex, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, more drabble than pwp, overfull
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 09:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15748872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fichuntie/pseuds/fichuntie
Summary: The outdoor baths of Kingsmeet host a tentacle creature. After a first encounter, Damen and Auguste take Laurent to the indoor baths to cool off. Damen fetches the anointing oils. Auguste remains focused on removing the "gifts" left to Laurent.





	The Baths of Kingsmeet

Laurent is slick everywhere, between the tentacle gel, the outdoor pool water which had gone thick with secretions, and come. Damen leads them down the hallways, murmuring the names of kings. Auguste can barely tear his gaze away from Laurent’s glistening limbs and each overexerted tremble. Each distracted glance at their surroundings leads to a whimper as the jostling disturbs the gifts inside Laurent. Damen and Auguste carry him more carefully. Out of the corner of his eyes, Auguste can see the style of architecture change to the older style. There’s colorful mosaics on the high walls and tiling on the wide floors. He’s learned not to trust the appearances of Kingsmeet. 

“We must go to the traditional pool,” Damen had insisted. “For so many gifts, it is only appropriate place.” 

Easy for the beast of a man to say, but Laurent is heavy. Auguste’s arms tremble with his weight. Still, he won’t pass his brother off to the brute Damen. Finally, they’re at the pool. Damen heaves Laurent into his arms and, with care, lowers him into the water. Auguste clicks his mouth closed at the feat. Damen’s bronze arms are not so much larger than his. 

The indoor pool’s clear water cools Laurent. The water’s clarity reveals the mosaics at the bottom. Deep red and gold creatures twine together with scrolling patterns surrounding them. Auguste follows them into the pool. It’s so cold it raises goosebumps. He’s careful to look around and at first this seems much better than the open baths. The mosaics have almost Veretian elegance but then he sees the forms of men among the reeds and fish. Along the pool are obscene images of the fish sliding fins and tongues into the lithe men with artistic details like curling ferns. Glittering mica decorates the splash of come of one man impaled on a seashell. Of course the Akelions would have images of gormagons and egg-laying in their traditional royal pools. Of course. Damen seems completely unphased dunking Laurent into the water.

Laurent thrashes in Damen’s hold, but the tanned arms keep him still with barely any effort. Auguste returns his attention to his brother. The rubbing of coarse hair on Damen’s arm seems to tantalize Laurent as Auguste can see the clenching of his hole at the sensation. He strokes a hand through the blonde hair, dragging a clump of the tentacle’s spend away. Laurent relaxes a fraction. He’s so hot, burning up. Auguste presses a kiss to his temple. Laurent turns to him, lashes clumped and damp.

“I’m too full,” Laurent says. 

“We’ll help you, open you up,” Auguste reassures. He shoots a look at Damen though.

“I will get the oil,” Damen says. 

Damen, useless, leaves Laurent with Auguste. He keeps them both above the water; Laurent's too fucked out to do so on his own. The younger prince is flushed to the touch. His nipples harden and flush where Auguste’s arm keeps him afloat. Auguste’s hand drifts to tease them. The lapping water over his swollen belly is warm too. Laurent’s cock twitches when Auguste runs cold water over his chest. The curls of his blonde hair around his cock are matted, catching the drops of precome. Auguste cards a finger through the hair. Laurent wriggles, barely strong enough to tread water, but hoping to tempt him to pump his cock. 

“You still want more? Greedy,” he chastises. 

Finally, Damen returns with a large amphora. He breaks the clay on the edge of the pool and clambers back to join them. Damen drizzles some oil over his hands. He sniffs his fingers himself and then shoves them at Laurent. Laurent is still panting and whimpering, almost trying to shake off Auguste’s hands but he calms under Damen’s oil-slick hands. The oil seems to help the gel slide off Laurent, warmer than the water but cooler than Laurent. Auguste thinks the glossy amphora looks expensive with painted waves, but Damen dumps the oil into the water and tosses the bottle away careless.

“The oil will help remove the gifts,” Damen assures, “You must be good, Laurent.”

“You must be careful,” Auguste growls back over Laurent’s nodding head.

“Get them out, either of you.” Laurent’s voice, usually icy, hitches. 

Auguste keeps his hold on him, careful not to touch his stomach which is almost scalding hot. He keeps kissing Laurent’s face and neck; he can hear Laurent gasp when Damen presses closer to them. Damen looks imposing between Laurent’s legs, past the swell of his stomach. Damen runs his hands over Laurent’s chest, fingers brushing against Auguste’s arms as he teases away the come and slick. Damen takes his time getting Laurent clean. He's washed him before, servile, but this is worship for a prince who was chosen for gifts. Damen relaxes Laurent’s trembling muscles if he massages the oil into them. Auguste watches and pinches Laurent’s nipples, just to make him clench. Each brush of his hands reveals the spread of a patchy blush underneath the come and sweat. Slowly, Damen’s hands drift between Laurent’s thighs, where the gel is thickest. 

Auguste pushes Laurent’s hair back, soothing him, and hisses at Damen.

“So how the fuck are we getting these Akelion gifts out of my brother?”

Damen considers for a moment and then “The oils are supposed to -” and there's a gesture and an Akelion phrase “anoint. But I didn’t care much for these legends.”

Auguste glares down at the waters already pungent and slick on the surface, almost iridescent. Laurent keeps huffing out foggy breaths on his shoulder as he and Damen absently stroke their hands over him. He thinks he can see the movement of the gifts underneath the taut skin of his brother’s stomach, but he can’t believe he’s that full. Laurent shudders when one of Damen’s hands press against his flank and the other teases his stretched hole.

“A-Auguste, please.”

Laurent is relaxing slowly. His legs are becoming lax, spread open. Some of the tentacle's secretions are sliding out, milky. Damen drifts a hand under the water to help. The figures of dolphins and men below seem to twist together, distorted by the water and Damen’s pistoning arm. Laurent has no resistance left, completely pliant between them. Laurent’s breath is so hot. 

“Keep yourself loose. Relax,” Auguste orders him. 

“You’re so good for us, so open. I can feel the eggs,” Damen murmurs. 

Auguste can’t help it. He needs to feel too, to help. He shifts his hold, slides his hands down. 

“Please, please, I need you to-” Laurent moans. 

There's a wave from the other end of the pool. 

Auguste's finger slides in too deep too fast and he curls it surprised. Damen's thrashing in the water, but Auguste can't pay attention. With his finger this deep, he can feel the eggs, the hard surface of them inside the heat of his brother. His wrist is cold outside in the water. It’s wet and lewd to twist his finger, all while the cool pool water splashes at each movement. Laurent’s white-blond lashes are closed. He’s whining, highly. 

Then Auguste feel something brush against his wrist. He tears away from Laurent’s face to look and see another tentacle pressing beside his fingers. 

Akelions shouldn’t be trusted. Not their oils. Not their pools. Not their princes.

**Author's Note:**

> here we are again. acknowledgement to the kinks rising discord for many "good" ideas.


End file.
